


A Hop, Skip and a Stunt

by BumbledBumbleBee



Category: South Park
Genre: Background ships are Tyde and Creek, I am looking for a ship and its not the main that comes up :(, I dont want to tag them in main bc I get disappointed when like, M/M, Tyde, creek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbledBumbleBee/pseuds/BumbledBumbleBee
Summary: I just really love cheerleadingCharacterisation is a problem, chapters may get longer as time goes on??





	A Hop, Skip and a Stunt

"Excuse me, you need me to _what_?" 

 

The teachers face fell as Kenny slammed his hands on the desk in front of him, eyes burning with a flaming anger.   
  
"We just need you to join a club, or extra curricular activity. You see, although we know you're working so hard it just isn't enough. It will look good on your resume."  
  
With a deep breath, the blond tried to calm himself down, to take deep breaths and focus. Focus on the birds outside, the way the window creaked with every breeze. It was fine, he was fine. _This_ , however, was _not_. It was halfway through the year nearly, and he couldn't just pick up and join any club, or extra curricular activity. Running through them alone he could find maybe one or two he'd be okay at, at best. He was mediocre, and nothing came to mind that really screamed _Kenny_.  
  
Stepping back away from the table and sitting down, he allowed himself space to calm down. He found that although stupid, the teachers just seemed to get more and more patience, which was handy only in this situation. "What if I refuse?"  
  
They seemed to mull this answer over, and planned carefully, lifting their arms onto the desk in front of them with folded hands. It was though a mastermind was plotting something and it made him uncomfortable. In little over a few moments, they dropped their hands with a heavy sigh and a shrug. "We'd have to assign one for you, your parents have already agreed." Of course they did, they probably don't even remember the conversation.  
  
Sucking in, he held his breath, throwing his arms up in defeat before leaving. He'd have to check the boards scattered around, and if he found nothing he'd check club rooms. First and foremost, he didn't have lunch so it was a perfect time. They only called people out just before it to minimise bunking opportunities, so that was lucky in a way. He could never properly tell if that was the intention or if it was pure coincidence, but he'd like to give the benefit of the doubt at least once for these poor souls.  
  
The board had very few things written on it. A few clubs of which he was uninterested like astrology, chess, band, swimming... He could join the choir, he had worked on his voice for something, even if he wasn't the type to really join the choir. He hadn't the largest interest in religion and if he did join it, he'd have no doubt they'd drag him into it all. Gross.  
  
With a groan, he felt more than saw someone stay standing next to him, and after he was done wallowing and pitying himself he let his hands drop to find the only person shorter than him in their year. Kyle Broflovski, standing at the measly height of two inches shorter than he was (who stood at 5'3", making Kyle a poor, sad 5'1") the smartass, the lifesaver.   
  
"So you looking at clubs? Aren't you a little late for that?" He asked, bonking him over the head with one of his - way too heavy - books and with a matter-of-fact tone stated, "Most of them probably don't have open spots by this point."   
  
With a mocking face as though repeating the words Kenny insulted the redhead and Kyle did it again, an angrier expression on his face this time and a harsher whack over the back of his skull. "I was going to offer help, but I don't think you need it if you're going to piss me off."  
  
This made Kenny pout, and wrap both arms around him in a clingy fashion as he rubbed his face to the redheads cheek much like a cat does when seeking attention. Kenny only needed to look up at him with the mastered expression of a sad puppydog, and he was in the clear, Kyle brushing him off. He was told to come sit with them at their table when he was done pondering the choices in front of himself. He decided he'd tail Kyle immediately and just follow along, since it was kind of boring to stand in the hall by yourself.

  
Of course, with Kyle however, came Stan.

This was only a problem when he wanted to talk to Kyle alone at all, like about dumb clubs. He wasn't the closest with Stan at the moment, since he was Tall, Toned and Terrifying. The three T's.   
  
Clearly Stan didn't know this, and gave him the sweetest smile as the two came over. Like you know when animal crossing characters did the joy emote, and radiated flowers and happiness; thats what he looked like when he shot Kyle smiles. The two had always been butt buddies, so much so that they actually butted him out of a lot of things as a kid since they were so close. It made him feel isolated a lot of his childhood, and having your only friends be the most hated kid and the other isolated case was not something he wanted to be a part of. He'd prefer to be alone than have that.  
  
As they grew older, however, Kyle started getting cosy, keeping him company more and more often. He worked his way back into the friend rankings faster than Kenny would like to admit. Though as stated before, with Kyle came Stan, and that was a problem. He could never tell if Stan liked his company or not, since the two never really spoke without Kyle being there as a middle man.  
  
Since depression, Stanley had come to be quite good at holding a face, keeping true emotions concealed and blocking people out that he didn't want. Of course, he did break down and was a bit of a wreck sometimes, but that was not for him to see. In fact, the only reason he had seen it was because nobody paid attention to him really. He was an invisible entity when he wished, and nobody could stop that.  
  
"So what are you interested in?" Kyle asked softly, fishing around in his bag his lunch; squashed, as per usual.   
  
"Girls, mostly. God, they're so pretty." The dead expression he received was so worth it, and a laugh bubbled out past his lips. "I know what you meant, but I don't know. I don't want to have my last choice be _chess_."  
  
Now Stan was in the dark here, and almost always looked sweet and innocent. Approachable. Kenny knew better than that. "What are you guys talking about?" He questioned with a tilt of his head, and Kyle spoke up since he knew Kenny liked being quiet than talking anyones ear off if he could help it. One on one, it was expected, he would rant and ramble though in a group? He left other people to answer questions or take his turn when he wasn't being directly spoken to. If you don't call him by name, he was likely not to pick up that it was directed. "He's looking for a club or activity to get into, but the options are limited."  
  
Immediately Stan brightened back up, and shot his happy look over at Kenny. "I can probably get you into the football team if you wanted! It would be something like a stand in, but it would be _something_ , right?"   
  
Football didn't sound like the best option, but it was better than anything else he had lined up. He'd be good at shimmying around people too, if he was ever thrown in. Shooting Stan a small smile that didn't reach up over the lip of his hood, he offered a thumbs up. "That'd be nice, actually."  
  
Even this action seemed to spur him into an excited spell, and Kenny would never understand why. "We'd get to work together a lot too! It would mean I could give you little tips, or just coach you in a way! It's been forever since we've properly hung out, I kind of miss it. We could grab after game smoothies and pizza or something, Kyle could probably come too. It'd be a little group again without the fatass getting in the way."   
  
In theory the idea was good, but Kyle shook his head. "If you're still all sweaty I refuse. Shower after games like you _don't usually do_ , and I will come with." His words caused Stan to fluster, but he didn't seem too bad when embarrassed. He was kind of known for wearing his positive emotions on his sleeve, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd been called a pussy at least a few hundred times while growing up.  
  
Kenny knew in his heart that Stan probably wasn't that scary, but every time he wasn't around friends, or was practising football he just looked so angry. It was one of those things that you could always debate on, but if you asked the person in question they'd deny absolutely every allegation set against them. It was frustrating.

"Where would it be? Would it be around where your practises are held?"

"Yeah! That's where we could see where you'd need to improve and everything, and what position you'd be in." He shot him a filthy look as though disappointed in him, and the blond snapped his mouth shut, his blood running cold. "Do not say a word, Kenneth, you know I don't mean it in a sexual way."

Well that'd be in both his wet dreams and his nightmares.

With a single thumbs up once more, he stood up, his stomach flip flopping and making him feel sick. He was worried for any sort of tryout now, he wasn't sure he could live up to any expectations. He rushed to class as the lunch bell rung.

  
Tryouts were horrifying. He felt so so so lost. Stan was telling him what he would need to do, they'd all warmed up together and now he wanted to just curl up into a ball and die. Every time someone charged at him so he could practice manoeuvres his feet rooted to the ground and he froze up.

_It was not a herd of cattle trampling him. Nor a police car. It couldn't be a volcanic boulder, a prop from a play, a space station or a train to name a few._

Clearly it was visible in his stance, his eyes and the fact that on the third time they even tried, he passed out, his limp body crashed into Clyde who had been the person barrelling towards him this time. His figure getting thrown due to its light weight, somewhat like the vine of the girl and the empty bottle. If Clyde wasn't horrified he'd just flung a poor boy at least half a meter, he would've shouted "this bitch empty, yeet" himself. It was unfortunate he could not do so.

The group was surrounding him in seconds, Stan moving him slightly to rest a mop of blond hair in his lap, taking delicate care with him in case anything had been broken or injured. It was about thirty seconds or so until he came to, and he sat up with a start, his heart racing and slamming his forehead straight into Stan's.

He had definitely had worse, but Stan was not in a helmet. He wasn't used to having his skull smack straight into another person without some sort of facial protection. Kenny rubbed his forehead briefly and the team backed off a little. At least he was safe, even if he had just slammed face with one of his sort of friends.

Whoops.

Flipping himself around, he saw Stan with glossed over eyes and a hand on his forehead. Kenny made his way closer, hands sort of hovering around his face not knowing what to do, but they were sweaty and gross from panicking. "I can grab you some ice? I'm so sorry fucking fuck fuck."

But Stan waved him off, and gave what he assumed was supposed to be a smile. It was a grimace. "No pain no gain, dude. I was being kind of overbearing anyway. You okay? You seem kind of spooked."

It was a good observation, actually. Kenny was very "spooked" and had been having way too many problems with this lately, like everything had his him at once. Sure through his earlier teen years it had been bad, but never to this extent really, and he was just... jumpy. Maybe he needed therapy, maybe he just needed a friend to talk to about all of this shit, but nobody ever believed him. It was pointless, and he was in this by himself.

If he was going to be anything, he had to be strong. He could not be weak, for himself, for Karen and definitely not in front of his friends. "I'm fine, honestly. I just never know how hard you guys are gonna whack into me."

A valid point that nobody could fight against, but still he knew Stan didn't believe him. The critical look he shot meant "we'll talk about this later" but Kenny highly doubted it. He would not speak to multiple people about it, and Stan was a notorious blabbermouth when it came to Kyle. He wouldn't doubt the redhead would know within the space of hours max.

"Sorry about your face." He offered, and Stan just laughed and stated that his "Mom is too."

Their moment was interrupted when a group of girls came out and spotted them on the field. Most of them he knew, but some he didn't. It was no surprise to find Bebe among those girls, but he hadn't seen her look angry in a while, especially considering she was about as tall as him. They often went on trips to the mall and caught up. It had been quite a while since one of these, and mostly because Kenny's funds weren't amazing. They fluctuated often, and even if Bebe constantly offered to pay, he felt uncomfortable taking any kind of money to go out, eat, and chat shit.

"You're on our field. We are supposed to have it Tuesday and Thursday, you already get more days than us. Fuck off." She was glaring daggers at Stan, and as her gaze shifted to Kenny, her expression brightened right up and she rushed over, taking him into her arms, and he just got a face full of boob. He did return the embrace but there was only one thing on his mind, first and foremost and his face was pressed into them.

But, he was a gentleman, and so he looked up and shifted himself to lean his chin awkwardly on her shoulder. He was still sitting on the floor after all, with her bent over at the waist to hug him. She pulled back and cradled his face, squashing his cheeks in the process and checked him over like a mother would a child. "You have to be more careful, Ken doll."

As she leaned forward and kissed the red mark on his forehead, he just pointed to Stan. "He deserves it more, I whacked into him." She simply leaned in and whispered "no he doesn't" and Kenny laughed. It was nice.

Standing back to attention, Bebe placed her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one side. "So are you going to get off our field? It's Tuesday, which means cheer practice. Buzz off."

Stan stood up to his full height to intimidate her, but she was an immovable force when she wanted to be, and right now she was ready for anything that he could throw and matched it with ferocity. Stan's height of 5'11" would not move her. "We're busy too, and Kenny needs something to do after school. We just need like an hour."

"Kenny, you're a cheerleader now. Start warming up with the rest of the squad."

Wait what?

Stan looked just as confused as him, but a little bit horrified. "Excuse me? You can't just steal him from under our nose."

"I know him better. You're basically torturing him here. Why was he on the floor for you to smack heads? Hm?" Having two people fighting over him like he was the butchers choice of meat was a disheartening to have happen, but at least it meant he was somewhat popular enough to have it happen.

"Kenny, who do you want to join? The footballers or the cheerleaders?" Stan shot with fire in his eyes, and the blond felt put on the spot, his eyes flicking between the two of them. If he joined either he would be betraying the other, could he really do that? He swallowed thickly, and Stan seemed more offended that he had to think about it, but he made his way closer to whisper in his ear. "If you join them I won't hold it against you. They get injured way less anyway."

And with a smile, a pat on the back and a wave, Stan went off and lead the rest of the team with him to train inside. They switched between them all, having some days outside and others inside. The cheerleaders drew the short end of the stick, considering they were inside with the hard floors and useless matts that probably hurt more to fall on than the actual floor, which is probably why they had less accidents. They can't afford to have them considering majority of their days are spent on hard floors.

First thing Bebe asked, however was if he had weak wrists. He replied no, since he did not and if he did eventually it wasn't an issue to keep running through them. If it became a serious issue, the first thing he could do was get himself killed. His wrists weren't the biggest of his concerns after all. "Perfect! You can base with me in stunts. Also you're going to need a haircut for competitions, unless it gets long enough to put up. Or you could fly, possibly even front. You aren't tall enough to back stunts."

Weirdly offending, but okay. This information didn't mean anything to him at the moment, but what could you do? Ask? He wasn't about that life. "You're going to have to teach me everything from the ground up, babes."

 

"Can do!"

**Author's Note:**

> I always feel like I'm taking risks writing my Kenny, honestly, since I don't see him portrayed the same often enough :(
> 
> He's one of the only characters I play, though(other than Clyde and Kyle), so if you have any tips/headcanons for Stan just shoot em over in the comments or something! I'd love to hear them!!
> 
> I will get to updating my other Stenny fic promise


End file.
